


Restaurant Ren

by LadyReylo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Alternative Universe - Chefs, Ben is kind of an arsehole, Chefs, F/M, Rey wants to try fancy food, Reylo - Freeform, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyReylo/pseuds/LadyReylo
Summary: “I can assure you,Rey,that nothing served here isn’t meticulously thought out, down to the exact micro-gram of salt used, so no, there is no sauce.” He stood up, squaring his shoulders, his fists clenched at his side. “If you want ketchup, there is a McDonald’s the next street over. I’m sure that will be more to your liking. Because,” He pointed a finger at her and Rey scowled at it. “No one sends food back in my restaurant.”An AU where Rey goes to a fancy restaurant and Ben is a chef who refuses to believe his food is cooked wrong.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 58
Kudos: 306
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	Restaurant Ren

Go to a Michelin Star Restaurant. 

It was part of her 25 Things to Do Before She Turned 25. 

She had run a marathon, gone on a rollercoaster, and gotten a tattoo, along with 21 other things she had thought of when she was 18. Which meant this was the final task on her list. 

It had taken a few months, saving $50 from every paycheck just to make sure she had enough to cover the meal and a nice glass of wine to go with it, but she didn’t mind. Rey had always fantasied about eating at a fancy restaurant. Having grown up in the foster system, food was basic, and sometimes not even an option. She spent many nights thinking of all the things she would buy when she was an adult, and when she saw a news story about a restaurant in the nice part of the city winning a Michelin Star, that became her dream.

So, she had made sure she was online when the new batch of dinner reservations were released to the public. She had waited in the queue for over an hour before the calendar popped up and she thanked her lucky stars that her birthday fell on a Thursday this year as all the weekends were already sold out. And then it was done. All she had to do was wait three months and she would be eating at Ren, the most talked about restaurant in Brooklyn. 

She had first heard about Ren on a Netflix documentary. The chef, Ben Solo, was being interviewed about his unique style of focusing on the food by removing all distractions. Everything was black, the walls, the tables, even the cutlery was black, all so the colour of the food, the texture, the taste would be what people savoured. Rey rolled her eyes at first, but the passion he had for cooking, the knowledge and confidence he exuded as he spoke with his hands, it drew her in and by the end of the episode she was Googling everything she could about him. And it didn’t help that he was tall, dark and incredibly handsome.

Then she had become obsessed. Talking about him at work so much Rose put a jar on her desk, saying every time she mentioned him or that restaurant, she had to put a dollar in it. The funds going towards her eventual meal there. She may have seen Rose, Finn and Poe all sneak a few extra dollars in there the week leading up to her birthday. 

And now she was outside. 

True to his word, there was nothing distracting about the plain black building. The shiny glass was opaque so she couldn’t see in, and even the door handle was painted the same shade as everything else. If she hadn’t already researched the place so much, she wouldn’t have known it was even a restaurant. 

The door opened just as she reached for the handle and a tall ginger man ushered her in. Her first impression was everything she had hoped for. The Maître d'hôtel, dressed all in black, greeted her. 

“Miss Johnson. May I take your coat?” Rey was surprised he knew who she was, but then she realised not many people probably come here on their own. 

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” She handed it to him and noticed him check her outfit at the same time. The restaurant had a strict ‘black clothes only’ rule, which she had been grateful for as her favourite outfit was velvet black jumpsuit she got last year for the work Christmas party and hadn’t stopped wearing it to every fancy occasion she went to. The neckline plunged down her chest, but it wasn’t indecent. Its not like she had boobs to show off anyway. 

“Lovely.” The man said, although his face seemed to be twisted in a judgmental sneer as he guided her to the table. He was exactly the dickhead Maître d she had imagined, acting like she was a piece of shit on his shoe. It only made her smile widen as he let her sit down and tucked in her chair. 

“Your waitress this evening will be Phasma. She will be with you shortly.” He had already begun walking away before he’d finish talking. 

Phasma came over a moment later, pouring her a glass of water from the bottle and talked her through the itinerary of the meal. By the end of it, Rey was practically shaking with excitement as the tall blonde woman handed her the menu. 

Rey already knew what she was having. She had made a spreadsheet with all the food she liked, and cross referenced with all the dishes that complimented each other. Finn had laughed at her when she explained it to him, but she had laughed at his fantasy football spreadsheet, so it was only fair. 

She ordered and Phasma seemed impressed with her choices, which made Rey immensely proud of herself, and when she asked what wines went best Phasma called over the Sommelier who let her test three wines before picking the last one. 

The starter arrived, a lime and green tea mousse that had been frozen to form a delicate ball. It was meant to cleanse the palate. She quickly snapped a photo of it when Plasma left so she could show Rose the next day. Rey was grateful she had been put in a corner, as when she took her first bite the noise that came out of her mouth would have been embarrassing if anyone was close enough to hear it. 

Between the starter and the main, Plasma bought her a shot of Red Cabbage Gazpacho that’s blood red colour against the black glass made her gasp. 

Then it was the moment she had been waiting for. She had spent too long daydreaming about this Roast Foie Gras. Having never had it before, she knew tonight was the perfect opportunity to try it for the first time. 

It was served on a bed of rosemary, and there were two wafer thin Konbu and Crab biscuits delicately place on top of the Foie Gras. Rey gently took them off and set them on the side of the plate, being careful not to break them. 

Her knife slid through the pate as if it was butter, and cutting a small chunk away, she bought it up to her mouth and-

Hmm. Rey frowned, looking down at the plate as she chewed slowly. It was… drier than she expected. She swallowed, grabbing her drink to take a sip in hopes it would help with the strong, almost chalky texture left on her tongue. It was… it wasn’t nice. 

Cutting another piece off, she broke a corner off the biscuit and added it to the fork, but it didn’t help. Something was wrong with it.

“Excuse me?” She asked when Phasma walked past again.

“Yes?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my meal.” Phasma mouth formed a little ‘o’ as she took a step closer. “It’s a little dry. I think it might be overdone?” She hated how it came out like a question. “No, it is overdone.” She repeated with conviction. 

“You have my sincerest apologies.” She took the plate and headed to the kitchen, leaving Rey to stress over if she had done the right thing or not. 

Maybe that was just what Foie Gras tasted like? No. She had read the reviews, it was supposed to be creamy and smooth and rich. She was right to send it back. 

Taking another sip of her wine, her eyes widened and she saw Phasma coming back out with Ben Solo behind her. She choked on her drink, taking a second to pat her chest to try and clear her throat. 

He stalked over with purpose, his shoulders tense and a look of annoyance etched on his face, determination in his eyes.

“Is there something wrong with your meal?” His deep baritone was just like on the tv, only there was anger in the edge of his tone. Anger directed at her. 

She blinked, taken aback at how rude he was being. 

“Yes. Its dry.” She told him, her hand gesturing at the offending plate. 

Ben took the plate from Phasma’s hand, putting it on the table in front of Rey. He loomed over her as he pointed at it. 

“You think this is dry?” She didn’t know what to make of him. This was the chef she had obsessed over for months, nearly a year, and now he was inches from her, basically scolding her. Rey should have been terrified, even embarrassed at her lack of knowledge in front of him, but his arrogance made her tilt her chin up defiantly. 

“Yes. Is there a sauce or something I could have with it?” She made sure go take a sip of wine for emphasis as she watched rage flicker over his features before he could control it.

“A sauce? What kind of sauce do you think this should be accompanied with? I’d love to hear your take, Miss…” 

“Rey. You can call me Rey.” She watched as his eyes scanned her face. “And I’m not sure. Do you have ketchup?” His eyes budged and she laughed. “I’m kidding. I don’t know, its just a little bit…” She smacked her tongue to explain the chalky texture. “You know?” Her nose wrinkled up at the memory. She wanted to kick herself, did she really just make a face at Ben freaking Solo? He must think she was an idiot. Maybe he might even kick her out of his restaurant.

“I can assure you, _Rey_ , that nothing served here isn’t meticulously thought out, down to the exact micro-gram of salt used, so no, there is no sauce.” He stood up, squaring his shoulders, his fists clenched at his side. “If you want ketchup, there is a McDonald’s the next street over. I’m sure that will be more to your liking. Because,” He pointed a finger at her and Rey scowled at it. “No one sends food back in my restaurant.”

She rolled her eyes, even for a tv chef with a flair for the theatrics, he was being dramatic.

“Will you just shut up and try it?” Rey rotated the plate towards him, a silent challenge in her eyes, daring him to put his mouth where his money is. Wait, that’s not right, Rey corrected herself mentally as she licked her lips. “If I’m wrong then I will apologise and buy you and all your staff a bloody Happy Meal. But I don’t think I am.” 

“I can get you a fork?” Phasma offered, but he waved his hand to dismiss her. 

Instead he pulled out the empty chair on the other side of the table and slowly sat down, not breaking eye contact from Rey the whole time. 

If Rey hadn’t been scared she was about to look like a total twat in front her hero, she would have turned to jelly under his heated gaze. Those honey and melted chocolate eyes seemed to make everything else in the restaurant disappear. Although maybe that was because everything around them was all black.

He reached over, picking up her knife, cutting down the middle of the block of food almost violently, then took her fork, stabbing a chuck and bringing it to his mouth. 

Oh God, his mouth. Watching those full lips curve around the same fork she had just used, it was hypnotic. No, it was damn right sinful as they pressed together, his jaw moving slowly as he chewed. 

She watched in satisfaction as him struggled to swallow, reaching for her glass of water and taking a mouthful. 

“This is overdone.” He admitted, taking a napkin and whipping his mouth. Rey envied that napkin for a moment before snapping back to reality. 

“Really?” Her eyes lit up as what he said sunk in. 

“It has been in the oven far too long.” Ben mimicked her earlier tongue movements. “It’s too metallic.” 

“That’s exactly what it is!” Rey blurted out, she wasn’t sure the best way to describe it, but he got it spot on. 

“Is there anything else I can get you, I’ll prepare it myself by way of an apology.” Her shoulders sank slightly. He must have noticed when he went to stand, pausing for a moment. “Is something else wrong?” 

Rey laughed, a small, slightly bitter noise as she played with the stem of her wine glass. “It’s fine.” 

“You are clearly lying.” Rey rolled her eyes at his bluntness. 

“It’s nothing. It’s just… this was meant to be perfect. I… I’ve never been to a fancy restaurant, I’ve never eaten Foie Gras, I’ve never dress up nice for dinner.” She motioned towards her outfit and noted how his eyes lingered on the plunging neckline. “I saved up for ages to come here tonight. I guess… I guess I just had unrealistically high expectations.” She confessed. 

“I can only apologise, Rey.” His voice had become soft, his eyes open and understanding. He seemed to mull over what he had said. “Actually, come with me.” He stood up, his hand reaching out to her. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Come with me.” He held out his hand a little more sure, and Rey found herself drawn to it, her smaller hand fitting into his perfectly. 

“Where are we going?” She asked as he walked her through the restaurant, reaching the kitchen doors and opening them with a flourish.

“Mitaka, take the Foie Gras off the menu, its fucked.” Ben yelled. 

“Yes, Chef.” A random person, probably Mitaka, responded. A few of the chefs stared in confusion as they went past them, leading her to another door. 

“This is my personal kitchen.” He explained as they stepped inside. “I’m here tonight trying out some new recipes, would you like to be my taste tester? You clearly have the palate for it.” 

Rey stood in shock as he grabbed a stool and put it next to the work surface. 

“That would be... are you sure?” She checked, feeling breathless. 

“Sit down, Rey.” He commanded, causing Rey to hop up on the chair as he went around the other side, and began preparing a plate. “Have you ever eaten pigeon, Rey?” She shook her head. “It has this unique shape for red meat, and goes this wonderful colour when cooked properly.” He spoke with his hands as he explained all the ingredients, and it was exactly like the Netflix documentary, only live and solid and in front of her. And when she looked into his eyes, he was looking back at her. 

He grabbed the ingredients and quickly seared the meat, cutting it carefully and adding the crumbled black pudding he had just told her about before presenting it to her, handing her a knife and fork. 

“Let me know what you think.” She cut into the tender meat, taking a sliver and putting it in her mouth. 

“Oh my God.” She groaned as the flavours hit her tongue. “This is insane.”

“Good.” He smiled at her, a genuine, warm smile, making his dimples appear from out of nowhere. Fuck, he was handsome. His hands closed around hers, cutting a piece for himself, using his fingers to pick it up and pop it in his mouth, sucking the juices off them as he did it. Rey tried not to gawk, but that was almost pornographic. “I’ll make you desert. Keep eating.” He urged. 

“So why my restaurant?” He asked as he pulled a plate down from a shelf. 

“Netflix.” She said before groaning again as her teeth sunk into a particularly tender piece of meat. “Well, I have a list, 25 Things to Do Before I’m 25. And eating at a Michelin Star restaurant is one of them, then I saw you on that chef show on Netflix and it turns out I only lived 10 minutes away. It seemed perfect.” 

“When do you turn 25?” He asked, bending down on his elbows on the countertop.

“Today.” She punctuated the statement with a little clang as she dropped her knife and fork on the empty plate. 

“Happy Birthday, Rey.” She beamed up at him, only to notice how dark his eyes had gotten, his pupils blow. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Her stomach dropped and her breath caught in her throat as he leaned forward, his hand coming up to gently pinch her chin as he guided her mouth his. 

It was a sweet kiss. Slow and gentle as his soft lips moved across hers lightly. He pulled back too soon and Rey was left, eyes closed, face tiled up. 

“Wow.” She breathed, gradually opening her eyes. Had that really just happened? Did the chef she adored and respected really just give her a birthday kiss? Was this all part of the Michelin Star experience?

Ben had walked around the workstation, plate in his hand. 

“I hope this is an acceptable birthday cake.” He placed it down in front of her. “It’s a Black Forest Gateau, but tonight it can be a Birthday Forest Gateau.” He seemed almost awkward at his little joke, which was utterly endearing. 

“Ben. This looks amazing.” It was a small tall cake, the shape and size of a matchbox. It looked like a little skyscraper on the giant plate. 

Taking a spoon, she split it down the middle, scooping one half up and putting it in her mouth all in one go, before offering him the spoon. She moaned, it wasn’t a dignified noise, but it made Ben smile. “Fuck. That’s good.” Ben agreed with his own moan as he put the spoon in his mouth. “Can I get this for every birthday?” She teased.

“I think I can arrange that.” Ben laughed, dropping the spoon on the plate.

His hand snaked around to the back of her neck, his fingers tangled in her hair. Rey stood up, pressing her body firmly against his, her hands finding their way to his jaw and cupping them as their lips crashed together. 

This kiss was far more intense. His tongue brushing across the seam of her mouth, which she gladly opened, giving him access. 

He tasted like chocolate and cherries, and it was Rey’s favourite new flavour. 

And the next year Ben made her the Birthday Forest Gateau again, sticking a little candle in the top, a small smile on his face as he watched her cut it in half and discover the ring.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave me a comment or kudos and let me know if you enjoyed it or not!
> 
> Make sure to check out my other fic, [Almost Perfect.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424152/chapters/53577040)


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